Asher was visibly taken aback, alarm bells ringing loudly in his head. Was this a trap? What was he thinking, trying to make him do something that would get him beheaded?
"Are you afraid of me...?" Xavier asked in an eerie, intense tone that did nothing to ease his worry. Instead, it tightened the powerful knot in Asher's stomach, twisting and turning without mercy.
Why was such a powerful man towering so close to him? Was this karma? Or the universe's way of mocking him? Because out of all the partners he had rejected, the one who finally forced his way close to him was a devil incarnate.
The silence stretched painfully. Asher could see Xavier's patience thinning, the faint irritation forming in his sharp emerald eyes. He was annoying the man, and that realization only worsened his fear.
"Are you trying to poison me? Say it now before it's too late," Asher suddenly blurted out.
Xavier looked stunned for a split second, completely dazed. Then, out of nowhere, he broke down laughing—hard.
The sound boomed throughout the hall.
Asher felt like he was witnessing an abomination. How was the devil smiling? Was that even normal? Or had he fallen into a deeper pit without realizing it?
Xavier didn't stop laughing. The hall echoed with it. No one dared react, yet the shock was written all over their faces. This was the first time in history such a thing had happened. The first time they had seen him laugh.
The only rumor anyone ever heard was that he laughed on his twelfth birthday. After that, nothing. No one knew why he stopped.
And now history was happening.
Some felt they were witnessing a miracle—the first in their lineage to see such a sight.
"Oh, my jewel… I can't believe you made me laugh like that. That was so hilarious," Xavier finally said after composing himself.
Just like that, the smile vanished. His face returned to its usual scowl, as if the laughter had never existed.
Awkwardly, Asher tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and scratched the back of his neck.
"My pleasure… I guess."
He was dying of embarrassment. The man was still holding a spoon near his mouth, not even lowering it when Asher refused to take a bite.
"You're hungry, Asher Collins. Don't be a baby and eat. I don't want my fiancée collapsing or turning into a broomstick."
He said it so deadpan it felt rehearsed, like a speech memorized word for word. Asher was certain even a robot could speak better.
Didn't he know how to communicate properly?
Fuck that. It wasn't his place to question him. He should be more concerned about why this psycho kept calling him his fiancée as if they were engaged.
Nothing like that had happened. Not that he could remember. Or had he hit his head somewhere and wiped out an entire memory?
"Excuse you? Fiancée? Like how? When?" Asher demanded, attempting to stand up to press for answers.
Xavier immediately grabbed his hand.
His fingers tightened around Asher's delicate wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but not soft enough to allow escape.
"I forbid you from standing without eating, Asher. Unless you want to collapse. Look at you. I'm sure the wind could blow you away any moment."
The reprimand made heat creep up Asher's cheeks.
His stomach growled violently, betraying him. He yawned lightly and glanced at the appetizing meal Xavier had placed before him. He gulped.
"Sit and eat, dear. The night is still young. No need to rush. I'm here, okay?" Xavier winked.
That was it.
Asher was won over.
One thing he never joked about was food. He was a foodie to the core. Acting like a big boy now would only make him collapse dramatically later. Sitting down and putting something in his stomach was the smartest move.
He sat.
His eyes never left Xavier as the man dipped a sausage into the thick brown soup, pulling it out slowly, sauce stretching, before bringing it close to Asher's mouth.
Asher held a spoonful of noodles midair when another piece of steak was offered to him. He paused, studying the man feeding him.
Xavier had removed his mask.
And Asher's jaw nearly dropped.
Or was he drooling? He couldn't tell.
He forced himself to snap out of it, reminding himself he was straight as a ruler and shouldn't even be thinking this way.
Silver hair. A sharp, pointed nose that enhanced his striking side profile. An angular face with high cheekbones. And those emerald eyes.
He was a sucker for green eyes.
And out of all creatures, he was stuck with one possessing that exact feature.
What an irony.
Xavier turned the steak gently, mixing it properly with the sauce. But in the middle of Asher chewing, Xavier's mind drifted elsewhere. His gaze darkened.
He could see it.
His baby boy was straight—or at least acting like one.
And Xavier Devereaux loved that storyline.
Breaking them. Watching them turn gay just for him.
How erotic.
Asher's thoughts were spiraling.
Xavier had saved him. Not once, but twice. A man like him would never do that for fun. He wanted something.
Now, hearing about being his fiancée, he understood.
But the problem was—he was straight.
He couldn't be caught dead marrying another man. Worse, a Mafia lord.
He didn't want to die yet.
And an omega like him… how was he supposed to survive in a mafia world booming with evil activities without being butchered or raped to death?
His body began trembling.
This was insane.
Wasn't his scent leaking? Xavier hadn't commented on it yet. What was he thinking?
As that thought crossed his mind, his eyes met Xavier's dark, lust-filled gaze.
A shiver ran through him.
He couldn't handle this pressure anymore. Those sharp eyes monitored his every move, every breath.
A sharp noise snapped him back to reality.
The iron spoon Xavier held had clattered against something.
Confused, Asher tried to lift his head—but movement under the table caught his attention. His eyes darted around, searching for whoever was there, when the scent of cedarwood invaded his nose.
Then a hand gripped his crotch.
Tightly.
Stroking.
He stiffened instantly.
"Your scent… I couldn't help it. I just can't. You're driving me out of my mind. I won't rest until I make you mine tonight," Xavier declared.
Asher's brain lagged behind the sudden shift.
Before he could process anything, he was lifted effortlessly and slammed onto the table. The force shattered what little resistance he had left.
"Oh, Asher. You act like you don't desire me. But isn't that a bulge I see there?" Xavier pointed shamelessly.
Asher's face burned crimson.
By then, all the prison mates had rushed out of the hall. They knew the rules. Anyone caught loitering would be beaten nearly to death—eyes gouged out, tongue sliced off, neck slit open.
"Come, jewel," Xavier murmured darkly. "Let me milk you…"